


Time traveling muck up

by TaurusDoodles



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Oneshot, just three bros chillin in the middle of a brutal historical event, not entirely accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaurusDoodles/pseuds/TaurusDoodles
Summary: America and Sealand screw England up whilst in the middle of casting a spell, landing them in the middle of 17th century Salem, Massachusetts.Graphic depictions of a hanging.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America & Sealand (Hetalia), England & Sealand (Hetalia)
Kudos: 17





	Time traveling muck up

He didn't mean for this to happen. It backfired is all. Simple as that. And sometimes things do that without warning so is this really his fault anyway? He didn't have the best grip on his magic nowadays, what with the onslaught of meeting after meeting going on left and right without an end in sight. He barely had time off as the, self proclaimed, head representative of the United Kingdom had so much responsibility!

Arthur Kirkland, aka England, just wanted to have a little fun with some unfinished spells from decades ago. Most were unlabeled so Arthur thought it wise to haphazardly test them out in his basement where there was much more solitude and much less precious objects to be ruined. He was only several spells in when none other the US-Of-Asshole barged in. And to make matters worse he'd let the little pest Sealand in too! One of the reasons he chose today of all days to work in his basement was to keep away from Peter, despite intentionality volunteering to babysit weeks prior for Sweden and Finland; but he couldn't deal with the brat today! Too much stress. He needed some peace and quiet and to let out his frustrations the only way he knew how.

Arthur was in the middle of altering a spell he still barely knew anything about when the two blond gits barged in. Both expressed how hungry they were and how they wouldn't leave Arthur's weird, as Alfred so immaturely and disgustingly called it, "sex dungeon". Arthur ended up losing his cool and lost complete control of the spell. It went this way and that, the three inhabitants trying their best to dodge it. Arthur, knowing a decent shielding spell, huddled over Peter and tried his best to corral Alfred over. But it wouldn't have mattered. The moment the unfinished, untested spell hit the ground the entire room filled with a bright blinding pale yellow light.

And that's how the three ended up in…. Wherever they are.

Alfred stood on wobbling legs. He adjusted his glasses that sat askew thanks to…  _ Whatever that was _ . "Where are we?" Peter asked. He took the words right out of Alfred's mouth. Looking around, mind still muddied and fuzzy from the spell, Arthur racked his brain. He knew for sure it wasn't a summon or reverse summon spell. Nor was it a teleportation spell. He knows for sure no one was thinking about the woods even if it is a type of teleportation spell. Why would they when they were just under attack by a stray ball of magic? All Arthur could think of was making sure the two blunders he'd had the misfortune of knowing didn't get killed!

While Arthur had been investigating his surroundings from a far, Alfred decided to be more hands on. The blonde began to venture forth. Peter followed close behind, thinking the American was the more responsible one of his brothers. And that's saying something when Arthur had been the one to raise him in the beginning.

Alfred stumbled upon an area where the trees were filtering out into a clearing. There were the occasional stumps, indications of cut trees, so civilization had to be near. He'd left his cell back in the living room, Peter too. Unless Arthur had pockets in that dress— er,  _ robes—  _ then going into town was their only option. Alfred and Peter, Arthur begrudgingly trailed behind after realizing where they’d gone, reached the edge of the wood where out in the distance they could see a house.

A wooden house. Very outdated looking in fact. But still very clearly kept after. Could they have landed themselves in an Amish settlement? There aren’t many houses or cabins built like that anymore. It was the only thing Alfred could think about. It isn't too unbelievable. Although if it is true then they should leave. Alfred knows the Amish to be typically very friendly but he would hate to intrude on them without prior announcement. They live modest lives, the three of them would only screw things up for them.

"I think this is an Amish settlement." Alfred voiced his thoughts. "Come on. Could be a town or something a few miles out from the settlement's end." Peter groaned. "We have to walk!? Can't you do the magic thing again, stupid Britain?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does it look like I have my spell book, Peter?" Said boy shrugged. Arthur moaned in frustration. "Of course I don't fucking have it! Use your noggin next time! Jeez!" Peter stuck his tongue out at his older brother.

"Is somebody out there?" The three froze. Shit. A local. This is exactly what Alfred wanted to avoid. He made it a point not to visit his Amish citizens, or other differently cultured citizens in established settlements. He liked to leave them be as to not disturb their lifestyle with his own. In a way it was to compensate for what he'd done in the past. "Hello?" The voice called again.

Arthur shushed the two, putting his index finger to his lips in silence. By some miracle it worked. The two chatterbox blondes actually listened for once. They quietly shuffled further behind the couple trees to obscure out of view from whoever was out there. "Damn it to hell. Must be them kids doing the devil's work again…." The voice muttered just loud enough for them to hear.

Devil's work?

"There's a hanging going on.” The voice declared louder. “I wouldn't try this if I were you, kids. The devil is nothing to play with. Now get before I rat you out to Hathorne." Alfred's heart began to beat a mile a minute as the pieces began to come together. He wasn't completely sure of it himself though. He needed more proof.

Once he knew the person was gone Alfred relaxed. "What the hell was he going on about then?"

"Probably super religious or something. Sounded kind of American. So a nut job perhaps?" Peter proposed.

"No." Alfred shook his head, not acknowledging the rude comment the youngest made. "Come on. Follow me." Before the two knew what was happening they were being dragged out of the wood and into the town.

Alfred navigated through going unseen. It's like he knew this place exceptionally well. Which he did. "America, you know where we are?" Arthur hissed. He gathered the incognito vibe the American was trying to pull. Alfred nodded. "Salem, Massachusetts. 1692 I’m guessing." Arthur bit his tongue. He tried his best not to yell.

"Salem? Isn’t that where really bad things happened?" Peter asked innocently. Alfred nodded as he slipped to the back of another house, the other two following. "The witch trials. When the anniversary comes up I can't sleep a wink. I'm still traumatized by what Corwin did to me…." Arthur rose a brow. But he didn't press the issue. He'd ask about it later.

Finally the small group made it to where all the action was. A woman in period clothing, albeit tattered and dirtited, was bound by rope, a noose loosely tied around her throat as if it were a necklace. A man announced her accusations to her as she looked on dreadfully in the distance. The speech was nearing its end. The crowd had begun an uproar. A righteous uproar. Holy words were recited over the noise. And what of the woman? She stayed limp and silent as the executioner did his deed. He pulled the cart from under her. She struggled for a full minute. Her body contorting as it fought for air.

Alfred bowed his head in respect for the innocent woman's slaughter. Arthur solemnly covered Peter's eyes as he looked away. Said child kept trying to take a peek, knowing full well it was a horrible idea in the first place but still he wanted to see. But Arthur made sure he wouldn't get even a sliver of the horrific scene.

After the unfortunate, inhumane act the three decided to leave. Alfred felt sick. Arthur had witnessed many beheadings and hangings before, he’s sad to say he’s used to the act. Peter was curious but knew better to ask about.

That was Bridget Bishop's execution. Alfred remembers watching it from his little home in town. Just across the execution site. How unfortunate. Mrs. Bishop was always so kind to him. Poor soul, he'd always thought back then. All the victims and the accused were innocent in his eyes. Although this was Colonial England, not yet his land per say, Alfred couldn't help but feel for them as his people, wholeheartedly.

As soon as they made it as far away from the settlement as they could, they went in search of a secluded area to hide in. They found a heavily forested area where Arthur began retracing his memory for the spell he used. It took until sundown but Arthur managed to get it right.

When they arrived back home it was as if they had never even left. Peter was exhausted so Arthur had laid him on the couch, propped up in his lap as a makeshift pillow. He decided to watch over him in case he had nightmares over the ordeal. Alfred, meanwhile, was too troubled to even think about a nap. Arthur didn't poke or prod about it. He knew his boundaries with the American. There are just some things he wasn't allowed to ask about from his former brother's colony days. And he respected that.

Arthur mentally remained himself to burn that spell later on. The blond Brit had beckoned Alfred to sit in the recliner next to him and he turned on the telly for a good movie to watch. As Arthur searched, he couldn't help but worry for the other's unusual quietness. He buried that in the back of his mind as Peter sleepily pointed out the Pirates Of the Caribbean marathon going on. Silence fell as the movie played. A soothing peacefulness soon enveloped the three as daylight dimmed.

**Author's Note:**

> It's always been my headcanon that America lived through and went through the Salem witch trials, only to come out very troubled by it. I would think he was physically, and maybe mentally, between 8 and 12 at the time. Not to be graphic but perhaps he was stoned(crushed to death by a rock just as Giles Corey was) or hanged after being confined for a week to slowly starve to death. After his execution he would've escaped the town and never looked back. Nowadays he's probably hesitant to go back to the city. I imagine Johnathan Corwin, local magistrate, to of been the one to accuse Alfred of witch craft after seeing him get hurt days prior, an injury that would take at least a few weeks to heal properly except it healed in under a day.  
> I don't really have a reason why I added Sealand to the mix. I've never written for him before and I guess my exhausted brain just really wanted to lmao. If you want to know more about the event, as it is an unfortunately real and tragic historical event, I suggest watching(if you don't feel like reading) the 2002 move(simply titled Salem Witch Trials). I read the play script and watched the movie for school some time ago and it was surprisingly very good for a historical movie, not boring whatsoever. Just a warning however; its not graphic but it does mention and show them carrying out the executions. Its not for the faint of heart either way.  
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments appreciated!


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